


Remember you right

by Marber312



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Arthur and Merlin are a first really awkward and strange, Arthur and Morgana are nice siblings, Arthur is named Aaron, Arthur is surprisingly good at mixing drinks, Arthur remembers Camelot too, Awkwardness, F/M, Flashbacks, Friends to Lovers, Friendship/Love, I'm Bad At Tagging, Just to be confusing, Long, M/M, Male-Female Friendship, Merlin thinks he's going crazy because he dreams of a life he once had at camelot, Modern Era, Morgana is nice, POV Arthur, POV Merlin, POV Third Person, Parties, Past Gwen/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Reborn - Freeform, See notes for explanation!, Strangers to Friends, Work In Progress, a little bit, but falls into old habits, coming adorkableness, growing friendship, more tags will follow, mostly Merlin Pov, neither of their parents are dead, no one but Arthur and Merlin remembers Camelot, not evil morgana, only a tinny bit mentioning of Gwen and Arthur, remembering Camelot, student!Merlin, student!arthur
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-22
Updated: 2018-04-22
Packaged: 2018-10-09 10:41:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 17,044
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10410333
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marber312/pseuds/Marber312
Summary: (I've never written Merlin fic before, or Merlin modern AU, but this popped up in my head and won't leave. It's gonna be a long one)Merlin has since a young age felt like there his more to his vivid dreams and daydreams than his parents made him believe. Faces of people he has never seen and places he's never been to are too familiar and comforting for it to be his mere imagination. But could he really be remembering a past life?For years he's only let his speculations be just that: speculation, but as a certain blonde man suddenly enters his life, he is all the more confused about his Camelot-related dreams and grows all the more certain there is more to it than mere dreams. It gets even harder when his heart is telling him to rush to his long lost friend falling back into old habits while his mind is telling him the man in front of him is not the man he once knew. And even if he was, what could he possibly tell him?This fic will consist of a long mixing of settings and different situations in a try to co-operate paralleled Camelot stuff into it because that's how my brain works.[read notes for explanations of characters! It might be confusing]





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Not beta'd
> 
> So I've never been a fan of modern AU's (I'm though changing my mind)  
> The basic idea is that only Merlin and Arthur remembers Camelot but don't know how to act towards each others when they meet since they are actually strangers.
> 
> Names are very confusing since Arthur is actually named Aaron, but since it's from Merlin's perspective the idea is that he has a hard time calling him that. Especially when he's acting Arthur-y.
> 
>  
> 
> Is Anna Gwen? I have no idea. I'm not really sure what I think.  
> Is Morgana, Morgana? Yes she is, but not evil. Because I like her pre-evilness. And plot. Mostly plot.  
> Is Albert Gaius? I don't know.  
> Is anyone being similar to their old friends the reborn version? I have no idea.  
> (Are they OOC or just OC, nobody knows!)  
> I can only say that Merlin and Arthur does gravitate towards people which are similar to the people they used to know.
> 
> first chapter is though pretty much just introduction.
> 
> I hope you enjoy this confusing mess, never the less.

_Prologe._

He had often had dreams about Camelot and the blond prince and future king. He had had vague images of a farm and big and free forests when he was younger but as he grew older the dreams included more and more people and clearer and clearer pictures of life in Camelot. He and his parents had since a young age blamed the dreams and fantasies on vivid imagination. That he was just so imaginative that an imaginary friend wasn’t enough for his creative mind, he had to imagine a whole country and an entirely new life. In the beginning, he had believed his mother and his father’s firm belief that the names and faces he felt he knew were something he had conjured up by reading to many medieval books. But as the dreams became clearer and more focused and even transpired into what he could only call flashbacks, he wasn’t so sure there wasn’t more to the truth than just fantasy.

Sometimes he felt like he had this past life that was only waiting for him to remember it fullt so it could continue its destiny, since he hadn’t been able to fulfil it the first time around. At other times he would bet money on that he was turning bat-shit crazy. He could get a sense of belonging to places he had never been. He could feel a longing to do things he had never heard of, and sometimes he’d get the strangest feeling of recognition when knowing he had never seen the person or the place before in his life. When any of those things happened he was equally as freaked out as he was bewildered at what the feeling could possibly be. He always hated when it happened, while at the same time, he wanted the feeling to last and longed for it to happen again.

Sometimes late at night, he wondered if there was a possibility that he had been alive during a different time and he was seeing glances of his old life. He had never felt such a strong feeling of belonging as when they had read about King Arthur in school. He could still remember how it had left him breathless when his teacher had told them the old tales, and he, for the first time, remembered the companionship and friendship he had with the blond clotpole and not just images. The picture of his praty prince clad in a strong red and gold; the colours of Camelot, rang true to him in a sense he couldn’t explain. He had seen the picture in his head so clearly he could have been standing in front of him.

The dreams, or whatever they were, were sometimes just as vivid as the life he was living. And the dreams seemed just as true, and to be honest, a whole lot more exiting. Sometimes he could hear echoing words of a voice he knew but had never heard. Insults he’d never used would pop up when he was specularly clumsy. He’d randomly use old words and ways to speak, sometimes even ancient without meaning to. He had even formed a language of his own when he was a child. He had called it the old religion; which had worried his mother greatly of blasphemy. But it was nothing more than a name, as original as a four-year-old could be.

When he allowed himself - on very few occasions - to believe in the impossible, he felt it in his heart that whatever the things popping up in his head were, they were more than mere dreams. There were too many things that couldn’t be explained by vivid imagination and books. He had one to many times blurt out and used words and phrases he had never been told. He had one to many times remembered and known things he shouldn't be able to know. And if it was a childhood dream he clung to: why on earth would he put himself in the shoes of a mere servant instead of being the prince himself.

And then there was that one instance in particular that had always allured him. He couldn’t shake it off and he couldn’t disregard it. 

Merlin’s name should have been Martin. His mother and father had agreed on it but when the time came for his baptising - which was a lot later than usual since they hadn’t found the time - Merlin had, in the middle of when they were about to officially name him Martin called out: _Merlin._   Everybody had laughed; his parents and the priest included. When the priest had collected himself after his outburst and was about to once again baptise him as Martin, he - at the ripe age of two and three quarters - had looked up at the man and as stubbornly and decisive as he had ever been and said: “No. **_Merlin_**.” It had amused his parents so much they decided to change it. They had years later told him that it had been a good call to change his name since Merlin had never actually listened when they had called him Martin as a child.

It was absurd to him how his parents had changed his name like that. It was even stranger that he had decided to change it himself. He was certain he had never heard someone else being called Merlin. But whenever he thought about being called Martin it sent shivers down his spine, it just felt so… wrong. He liked his name even though it was odd and he sometimes heard it scowled in a very specific way when he was messing up particularly bad. And it wasn’t his father’s or mother’s voice but it was just as effective and just as recognisable.

 

*-*-*-*

 

He sighed in relief as his coffee was finally called and he could fetch the warm beverage. He didn’t per say like coffee, hence the cup of “more milk than actual coffee with sugar” warming his hands, but he couldn’t deny the caffeine did help him through long days, and nights, of studying all the names of bones and which medicine was effective to what. And the day had indeed been a long one. He had a knack for plants, which he didn't find odd since he had always followed his grandfather out to their garden when he was young and listened intently to his grandfather as he taught him all that he knew of plants and remedies; which was a lot. It was thanks to he old man he had decided to become a doctor himself. He apparently also had a knack for dealing with bodily injuries; he had been praised for his effectiveness wrapping bandages for sever cuts their first year. His strategy, efficiency and calmness had later been used as an example since he had been the only one who got the assignment correct on the first try - and with flying colours, if he judged the praise from his teacher correctly - when all the others had panicked knowing they only had about 30 seconds to get everything right or the ‘patient’ would die.

The digestive system, on the other hand, was _not_ his cup of tea.

He was exhausted and dragged his feet towards the door of the warm and cosy coffee shop. He didn’t want to leave the warm and nice smelling place. It had been raining all day so the sky was dark even though the sun wouldn’t be setting until a few hours later. The only people out on the streets rushed around trying to avoid getting wet by the drizzle outside and stepping quickly as if they could avoid getting their shoes soaked if they raised their knees higher than usually. He opened the door and the wind grabbed a hold of his hair and clothes. He had in his haste to warm up in the coffee house burnt his tongue on his hot coffee and wondered how fast the drink would turn cold in the chilly weather. He had been staring at his cup as he started to walk and didn’t look up in time to see a suit-clad man rush forward. The man barged harshly into him in a try to not get his posh, light brown shoes wet in a puddle. Merlin was balanced enough to not drop his entire drink over himself and let out a harsh “Prat!” before he could stop himself. The man kept walking but turned his head ever so slightly at the insult before entering the coffee shop he had just exited.

Merlin buried his head deeper into his scarf in a try to hold out the wind and drizzle as he made his way to his small student apartment not too far away.  As he continued to walk he muttered insults to the man who had almost trampled him and let himself use on of his favourites from his Camelot side life. He turned his head even though the man wouldn’t be able to hear him two blocks away and walked backwards and shouted “Inconsiderate CLOTPOLE!” He felt lighter afterwards and hurried up the steps to his apartment. He shrugged off his damp clothes and quickly changed into comfortable sweatpants and a dry t-shirt. When he grabbed his cup and sat down on the sofa it was the perfect drinking temperature. He folded his legs as he opened the heavy book on the table in front of him. He had at least 30 pages left to finish before bed and the quicker he read the earlier he could go to bed. He glanced up towards the clock. It wasn’t even 7 yet but he already wanted to go to bed. The minutes ticked on to hours and he only took a brief pause to throw away the empty cup.

He finished before he thought he would and stretched his sore back. It felt like he had polished armour all day. He yawned and sent a text to Gaius; His grandfather’s real name was Albert but he had never and would never call him anything other than Gaius. At first, his parents had thought he couldn’t pronounce Grandpa but as he grew older it became abundantly clear it wasn’t the case; their son was just very strange. He knew now that Gaius was an actual name and in no way an actual nickname for grandpa - he had looked it up online - but he didn’t care or pondered about it. His grandfather Albert would always be Gaius to him and the old man had never complained. It seemed more like his grandfather found it endearing instead of annoying and strange. He should probably ask him about it someday; someday when he hadn’t texted him at eleven o’clock at night about the digestive system.

Merlin closed the book with a content sigh. He knew he would get a reply in the morning since Gaius always rose before the sun and he’d have the answer; the old man knew everything. He had been a physician before he retired with a special interest for natural and herbal remedies. And even though he claimed he only “knew a little”, he was more of a walking and talking dictionary. A total lifesaver when it came to panic studying. Gaius could always explain things in a way he understood, unlike many of his expensive textbooks.

He crawled into bed content a few minutes past eleven and decided to sleep in the next morning. He didn’t have class until afternoon and he deserved some well-needed sleep before heading to the university library to study whatever hadn’t stuck yet in the morning. That night it felt like his mind did a re-cap of life at Camelot; how he and prince praty met, all the monsters they faced and how they slowly became friends. It felt like the dream zeroed in more often than not on how they were around each other and how it was being around the prince and king; as if his mind was trying to remember all details that had once been so familiar. He could feel a tinge of missing what they had had, wondering if he’d ever be able to find the same kind of feeling.

He woke up around ten and the sun was shining brightly into his room. It felt like the world was making up for the sucky day before. He looked at his phone for the weather forecast and his spirit was lifted even further. It wasn’t yet summer but it was fast approaching, by the sun shining brightly and with the warm degree outside already, he wouldn’t even need his jacket when he left.

He did bring his jacket though but walked with it in his hand instead of wearing it. In case the weather switched he’d rather have it and not need it than need it but not have it. The brown jacket was securely laid tucked onto the bottom of his backpack strap. A lot of people he knew complained about having to carry extra things but he didn’t really mind, he’d rather take all the things on the first go instead of having to make two turns, he was happy he only needed one bag to carry all his things.

 

He walked out of the building with bounce in his step. He was feeling over all good. He noticed some people glancing his way and straightened taller. He had for once gone against the overall colour selection of his wardrobe - which contained mostly of brown, different shades of blue, and some few green shirts and tees - and had gone, in memory to Camelot, for the only bright red t-shirt he owned. It had a little golden symbol at the right front bottom corner. The print wasn’t ballsy since he rather blended in than stood out, even with such a bright colour. He felt like it was the appropriate attire for the day; along with his favourite red scarf.

 

He hummed as he walked along the familiar streets and felt giddy about the day as he came to the last stoplight to cross the big road, one corner away from his university.

He didn’t know if it was the shirt’s fault or if the universe was just in a mood to mess with him when he noticed a man to his right staring at his shirt. He glanced sideways and had to do a double take. The sun was making the golden hair literally shine; it almost looked like he was wearing a crown by the pure shine around him with the way the sun hit his hair. A pair of deep blue eyes adorned the strict but almost shockingly handsome face. But the real reason he had to do a double take was because it was the face right out of his dreams, which sounded cheesier than it was. He let his jaw drop ever so slightly and couldn’t help whispering a low “Arthur?” in utter disbelief. Blue eyes locked with his and for the shortest second it looked like the stranger tried to place his face in remembrance. The indescribable feeling that they had known each other, even though he knew he had never seen the man in his life before, rose in his chest. He was pushed forward as the light had turned and he glanced over his shoulder trying to locate the blond and see where he was heading as he was pushed forward by the crowd, but there were too many people to see where he went.

His heart both lifted out of his chest and sunk to his toes at the same time. That had been, without a doubt, the strangest feeling he had ever had, and he had had a lot.

He continued to crane his head as he walked up on the other side of the road but the mystery man was gone from sight. He walked the last bit with his heart sinking in his chest. He sat down in the library as he had planned but he didn’t get much studying done. He let his mind wander and drift to the man from the morning and to the eerily similarity he had to the Prince and then later King of Camelot.

He saw Anna enter and waved to him as she made her way over to him a few minutes later and sat down. She was studying to be a nurse, a year above him. And she was one of the few friends he had gotten at the university. They had bonded over their despair over the human metabolism about three weeks prior. She had sat down beside him during an extra class they were given. It had been an extra lecture for all the students taking the class, giving them one last chance of understanding it all. Not that it had helped. Anna had heard him sigh in despair as he still didn’t understand what they were going through and had leaned in and whispered, “I’d need one more _week_ of classes, not just one lecture.” He had looked up with a smile feeling the exact same thing. They had hit it off instantly with their common hate and love for medicine. They had talked through their entire fifteen-minute-break and had decided to study together to get through the wretched class.

Her warm brown eyes seemed to see and notice all little things that went on; making it seem like she knew everything about practically anyone. A quality he adored since he usually is oblivious about such things himself. It was though not as fun when that particular sixth sense was directed towards _him._ She was very pretty and kind, he had a great time with her and together they created one hell of a studying team.

She flopped down on the chair across him with a heavy sigh as she pulled up her books from her bag. She gave him one quick look. “You seem rather unfocused today Merlin.” He refocused on the present. Her brown wavy hair was pulled up in a ponytail and her warm brow skin looked even more flawless in the warm sunlight that poured in through the big windows. He smiled at her. “I’m trying to place a face I saw this morning.” It was partly true. He knew where it came from and who it looked like; he was just doubting his sanity for letting himself hope it was. She raised her eyebrows intrigued. “Ooh.” She leaned her elbows on the table. “Please, do tell.” He felt his cheeks tint red and were about to argue that it wasn’t anything. He turned his head down towards his book instead and chuckled lightly. He shook his head and he tried to concentrate on the text in front of him, trying to look indifferent. “There really isn’t much to tell. I thought I remembered him from somewhere.” She leant further towards him. “He must have been quite handsome then.” She gave him a giggle before straightened and opened her books. He gave her a quizzical look and by the triumphant smile he got in return he realised he must have been sitting in quite the daze.

They studied almost every weekday together; even though they weren’t reading the same classes anymore, but he was forever thankful for her friendship and encouragements. He hoped she felt the same. She seemed too since they had spoken almost every day since the day they met.

She kept glancing his way the entire day and it seemed like she always caught him when he had unfortunately drifted into a daze. Or perhaps he just was in one constantly. She didn’t say anything about it the coming days but he knew she was curious by the way her eyes kept analysing him. He tried to act normal and shrug the feeling away but Camelot was never far from his mind. Ever since the ‘incident’ he dreamt about Camelot more often than not at night and he couldn’t help but search for blond haired men wherever he walked with the childish hope he might see him again and finally puzzle out what on earth was going on.

 

He held out for about three days with her constant analysis and he felt the need to get the incident out of his head to fill it with knowledge about medicine facts. They were seated in their usual coffee shop where he admitted why he was being so out of it. She had given him a curious yet worried look when he began. He probably shouldn’t have started the conversation with “before I begin, just listen. I know it will sound super strange but just hear me out.” He didn’t perhaps tell the entire tale but it was more than any of his other friends knew. He had worried so much about what she was going to say about an adult, well almost being 23, having dreams about medieval times. He admitted that he dreamed a lot and vividly and that he sometimes felt like he remembered people from them. He felt the air fill him with relief as she only smiled brightly at him and asked with fluttering eyelashes, very jokingly, if she had been one. They had laughed and he had given her a lame excuse that he was so out of it because he knew the man was from a dream. He rolled his eyes as she fluttered her eyelashes again in a mockery flirtatious way and he told her he just didn’t know from which and thus tried to figure it out. The last part had been an utter lie, but it felt better knowing she thought he was trying to figure out which dream the face reminded him of and **not** that it was the face he knew almost as well as his own; if not better by the sheer number of times he had seen it. They had then let the topic go. Sometimes when he got a very far off expression she’d ask, “dream?” He'd nod and that would be that.

He hadn't precisely told her it was the same world and setting each and every time, with the same people and he hadn't said to what extent it infiltrated his life but she knew about it. And to his fortune, she didn’t say anything about it. She would just give him a knowing look and a small smile whenever she noticed something was going on. He guessed she knew it was more to the story but he didn’t really care. It felt nice having someone knowing about it without treating him different or treating him like a freak.

 

 

 

They were walking towards Merlin’s favourite coffee shop after an entire afternoon of studying in his small apartment when Anna let out a squeal and ran forward in top speed. “Morgana?!” He saw her practically throwing herself in the arms of a black haired woman in front of them, giving her a gigantic hug. The girl hugged her back with the same amount of brute force. “It’s been forever! What are you doing here?” They kept a strong hold of each other’s arms and he doubted he had seen Anna as cheery. They had good times and laughed until they could barely breathe, but there was a sense of youthful glee he hadn’t quite seen before.  

Merlin walked wearily forward. The name made caution rise up in his gut and he wasn’t sure how he was feeling about the stranger. Anna let go and turned towards him. “Morgana, this is my friend, Merlin. He’s studying medicine to become a doctor. Merlin this is Morgana Pendragon.” The woman nodded her head and he felt his muscles slacken for the tiniest bit as he stared in disbelief. “Pendragon, as…?” Morgana looked up with a bright white understanding smile, “as in Pendragon co-operation, owner of most of the city; yes.” That explained the posh and expensive looking clothes and air of royalty. She gave him a warm smile and he felt his caution and weariness lessen ever so slightly. “But that’s my father’s business. I’m trying to stay as far away from it as possible. Not really my thing.” She turned to Anna. “I’m just dropping some things off his office. But I’m staying in town for a while. We should meet up while we have the chance.” She smiled brightly once more before disappointedly excusing herself and set of. They looked after her as she walked down the street. Anna's mood was lifted and she was practically squealing. They entered the coffee shop and Merlin had so many questions. They bought their coffee and sat down and as always Anna knew what he wanted to know before he even had the chance to ask. “We were best friends when we were little,” she looked out through the window “well we’re still great friends but she started traveling around a lot around her teens so we haven’t seen as much of each other as we used to.” She looked back at him with a smile. “But that’s a bit hard since we lived next to each other and went to the same class when we were kids.” Merlin nodded with a smile. He could already tell she was thinking back to her days running around playing catch with the raven haired girl he had just met.

“It sounds nice.” he held the cup in his hands, letting the emitting heat warm his fingers. She frowned and refocused on him. “Didn’t you have a best friend when you were little?” Merlin couldn’t help but think back to Will back in- way back. He had had a friend called William when he was young too but they had soon grown apart. A part of him believed he’d stayed friends with the boy, the other Will, for so long just because he had reminded him of the real best friend he had perhaps once had. “Not really a best-best friends. I have friends a few friends but not one specific best friend. Yet.” He shrugged and then blinked at her cheekily letting his smile spread. If things continued as they were he was hoping he could call her his best friend. She giggled before trying to look serious. ”Well then, maybe it’s about time you had one.” Her word was final and her smile was growing by each passing second too. Merlin had never minded not having a best friend when he was younger; he had never felt the need for one and he was always apprehensive when thinking about sharing Camelot with someone but for each passing day he really wanted to have a close friend. He already thought of Anna as his best friend and it felt like their growing friendship was filling a void he had never known or felt he had before. They let the subject drift to whatever else and Anna gossiped about intrigues amongst people in her class until it was dark and they really had to go.

It wasn’t long after their initial meeting when he saw Morgana again. He had promised to help Anna find something. He couldn’t remember what; he was only there for company and not opinions even though she kept asking. It was her words, not his. They had decided going down town right after class in hope to avoid crowds. They had been walking around the shops for about two hours. Not finding the thing Anna was looking for to her satisfaction. He followed her and glanced around the shop. “Anna, we’ve already been here twice.” She only glanced over her shoulder as she kept going through the rows. “If you tried being more helpful maybe I would have found it by now.” He didn’t reply and let his eyes roll walking after her. Even though he was the one with longer legs he almost had to jog after her to keep up as she snaked between rows. He had lost sight of her wavy brown hair and had just relocated it when he heard a happy exclamation in surprise.

He heard Morgana greet Anna before he saw her as he walked the last row to join his friend. This time Morgana had a blond man in tow, or he guessed she had since he was slowly making his way towards the two girls. He didn’t care much about the additional person as he walked forward and Morgana’s eyes settled upon him. “Hi Merlin!” He smiled and bowed his head slightly. “Hi Morgana.” He saw how she turned her eyes back to Anna with a knowing look. “Aren’t they so funny shopping with.” Anna laughed. “Such a pure pleasure.” He hadn’t cared about approaching man until he looked up and his eyes landed on the annoyed looking man who was walking up to them after yet another eye roll and it felt like his body froze.

Anna’s smile brightened as the man joined the group and the man’s face looked less annoyed as he gave her a gentle smile. “How are you Anna?” “I’m good. It’s nice seeing you.” “You too,” They shared a small smile before the blonde’s eyes turned to him and his heart did a double thump. It was the same guy he had seen by the stop light. The man who’s face had popped up in his head for the past two weeks. The blonde’s face was impossible to read so he averted his eyes not to gawk. Morgana looked to them both and gestured her hand towards the man and shot Merlin a bright blinding white smile. “Merlin, this is my _half_ -brother, Aaron. Don’t worry, the idiocy isn’t genetic.” He laughed but tried to cover it up by a cough putting his hand up in front of his spreading smile -it wasn’t very nice to laugh at someone he didn’t know - as the blond glared at his sister before smiling back with just as much bite. “And the attitude isn’t contagious since Anna here is left uninfected.” Anna was smiling widely now. “Oh don’t you two start.” The two girls were soon knee-deep in a conversation, he thought it was about either jeans or about unhelpful and uselessness of male company in stores.

Arthur kept staring at him as the girls chatted on. He looked up and met his blue gaze. “Nice to meet you.” Merlin gave him the politest smile he could conjure while his mind was running all around the place. One part of his brain had completely frozen over, another part was panicking not knowing what was going on, a third was giddy because he got to see the face and know the name of the man that had haunted his thoughts the last weeks. And a fourth part of his mind was occupied wondering what the fuck Arthur was doing outside the walls of Camelot; especially wondering what the hell he was doing in the wrong era.

And as the man didn’t answer and only kept starring he bit back a harsh resort. He couldn’t insult a man he just met! He let his eyes drift over the store as weighted on his heels. He could feel how Aaron was staring. He glanced up and noted once again that he did definitely not look like an Aaron. Shivers went down his spine, it felt wrong.  He shifted his weight back and forth not knowing what to do. “So, Arthur, what do you do?” He could tell that instant he had said something wrong as the blonde’s brows furrowed. “It’s _Aaron_.” He turned his head away from him, holding his nose high and looked like a posh and snotty child who had lived their lives on silver platters. He couldn’t help rolling his eyes. “And I’m studying law.”

Merlin nodded and stared at his feet. He wished the conversation would be over soon. It felt awkward and stiff. He had had so many different scenarios running through his head about an actual encounter with the blond man, but none of them had been as awkward and unwelcoming. “You?” The question was stiff and forced but since they had nothing else to do while their company chatted away they continued you the conversation of pleasantries. “Medicine.” He looked up from his feet to the chatting ladies hoping Anna would by telekinesis hear him pleading for them to go. “That’s how Anna and I met.” He let a smile play on his lips, thinking about how he met his friend still made him feel warm inside. Arthu- Aaron only nodded approvingly as if he had something to say about it.

They didn’t have to continue for long as Morgana and Anna finished their conversation he could feel how the tenseness left them as they were allowed to leave the conversation. He let out a sigh in relief and heard Aaron do the same. He smiled as he hooked his arm with Anna’s. “Nice meeting you again.” He smiled as he started to turn them around to leave. But he got anywhere he heard Morgana tell Anna, who had turned around preventing his escape, to meet them up for coffee when they were finished.

Before Morgana dragged her brother away to continue shopping for their father she made them both promise to meet up before they left. He could see how Aaron gave her an exasperated sigh. It didn’t seem like it was the first time he was dragged into whatever his sister wanted to do and he didn’t seem too happy about it.

They went onto their separate ways and when Anna's and his shopping spree was finally nearing its end Merlin dearly hoped Anna would have forgotten about the promised coffee. He didn’t think he could handle stiff pleasantries with the chaos that had erupted in his mind. He needed space to figure out what the heck was going on. Pictures of Camelot and feelings of friendship and devotion arose when he had seen Aaron but he didn’t even know who he was; they had never met before and something about the man seemed off. Aaron wasn’t anything like the man he had looked up to. He seemed to be nothing of the man he’d willingly put his life down for. He wasn’t the man Merlin had hoped, for so many years, to meet. He wanted to go to bed and spend a few hours staring up into the ceiling before concluding that he was just projecting his picture of the praty Prince upon Arth- Aaron and if he didn’t think about it, it would go away; just like he had tried to convince himself all the other times.

But as he tried to steer them towards the exit heading home, Anna grabbed his arm and changed directions. “Morgana just texted, they’re waiting for us.” “Great.” He smiled weakly as they set off to their destination. Just _great._


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There are parties and awkwardness  
> Merlin realises that maybe there is still a chance his Camelot life isn't dead. He also realises that 21st century Morgana is a wonderful friend and thoroughly enjoys her company far better now. Her half-brother's? Not so much. 
> 
>  
> 
> [Morgana gets quite the introduction because she deserves it, and Merin and Arthur still doesn't get along very well]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ugh, this chapter (read fic) is a nightmare. It has not come together in the way I wanted it to.
> 
> First of all: yes I did just re-post chapter two (and ended it earlier) because I was not happy with the way it was formed. 
> 
> I'm sorry in advance because this fic and this chapter are soo choppy and UGH, I'm trying to fix the flow but there are so many ideas in segments that it's not cohesive at all. 
> 
> Hopefully I'll get it sorted soon or it will ease up as the fic continues (or it will just be a choppy mess forever, we'll see!)
> 
> Second of all: Is the switching between Aaron and Arthur confusing yet? It is to me, but I promise(!) there is resonating/reasons behind it which can be seen in later chapters

Aaron and Morgana were seated by a small round table when they arrived at the decided coffee shop. To Merlin’s horror and thrill they hadn’t bailed on them last second. He and Anna ordered their drinks before joining them at the table. The two ladies quickly started up a conversation which soon turned into a one way highway between them, leaving Aaron and Merlin watching on from the side-lines in silence. Merlin let his eyes roam their surrounding as he sipped his not-actually-coffee to desperately keep himself from staring at the blond, but was distracted by the way said blonde’s stare was digging into his skull. He let his eyes quickly cross Arthur’s face, he looked pensive, annoyed and indifferent, all at the same time; a very peculiar expression. He felt a weird sensation of ease seep into his being by seeing the familiar face knowing it was actually _real._ But as soon as he started to relax he desperately reminded himself that he had no idea who the man was. He never let his gaze stay long at the blond to avoid questions of Camelot crawling to the tip of his tongue. He had so many of them and they were all questions he couldn’t ask so he kept his mouth shut tightly. He found that his gaze had once again strayed to the blond and quickly glanced away, trying not to wonder what Arthur was thinking about since the thinking-crease had made an appearance on his forehead. He shook his head. He didn’t know this man. He had no idea that’s what the crease meant, no matter how familiar he and his stare seemed. He tried to think about something else but the growing awkwardness, as Aaron only sat totally still and quiet staring at him, was getting on his nerves.

When Merlin couldn’t find anything other to look at _but_ the blond and said blond had stared at him for five minutes straight, - he had glanced now and then to make sure - he turned his head to face the intensive stare directly. “What?” It didn’t stop the man from staring; he just looked pensive about it. “Nothing.” Aaron turned his gaze away but turned it towards him the second he looked away. Awkwardness was creeping up and settling along his spine. It was unsettling. It felt like Arthur was trying to dissect his brain and he didn’t like it.

When he looked back to face the stare he could see a question brewing in the blue eyes. He looked at the blond expectantly and waited; trying his best to urge the blond on without saying anything. “Do I know you from somewhere?” Merlin almost chocked on his drink in panic and coughed as the liquid almost made its way down his windpipe. He sat the cup down carefully when he finally stopped coughing. “I don’t think so.” It was more of a question than an answer and his voice sounded shrilled even to his own ears. He stared intensely at his cup and desperately kept his eyes off the blond. He didn’t dare to look him in the eye in case Arthur would be able to tell just how well _he_ recognised his face. He wasn’t ready to be interrogated by this stranger, because if Arthur persisted in asking if he knew him from somewhere Merlin would have to lie and Arthur would know he was hiding something, because Merlin couldn’t lie for shit and then Arthur would keep asking until it all unravelled and he’d be seen as the creepiest man alive. There is never a good way to tell someone they have the face of the prince they had dreamt of their entire life. Okay, so maybe there is a good way; when very drunk and hitting on the guy, but he was neither drunk nor hitting on Arth- Aaron so there was no definitely no reason for this stranger to know his life-hidden secret.

 

Aaron scoffed under his breath with an expression of: you-idiot adoring his features, and quirked his eyebrow. For a fleeting second his eyes sparked with a familiar gleam of challenge before it was replaced by a neutral on as he looked away with a frown. Merlin had to bite himself in the tongue. The quirk of brows and the expression Arthur gave him irked him to retort; to call him names, call him a prat and challenge him. But he couldn't insult a person he had just met and hope he took it the right way. Not if he wanted to be considered as a decent human being. Not if he ever hoped of getting to know the person better, and he did. He really did. He couldn’t help but hope that maybe somehow somewhere deep down Aaron was the missing piece; the last puzzle piece to figure out what Camelot actually meant. What it was for, and if the companionship he had felt then, in his dreams could exist now. He really hoped so because it had always felt as if it was missing.

They stilled and started into opposite directions the flickering remnants long gone. Merlin thought Anna and Morgana noticed the weird atmosphere around them because they both gave them questioning looks as their conversation stilled before picking up again.

An uncomfortable silence settled between them and Merlin had a hard time keeping his gaze steady. It flickered from one thing to next as his mind flickered from one thought to the other. The awkwardness had fully infiltrated his after whatever it had been, and he wanted to leave. The rising anxiousness about what the hell was going on was making it difficult to act normal. He wanted to know if Aaron at least knew of his Arthur. He wanted to know if the blond knew about Camelot. He _wanted_ Arthur to know about it all but there was a very high chance he didn’t. He wanted Aaron to be Arthur and he knew it was insane and illogical. The chances were far bigger that he was in fact insane, but he couldn’t help it. He knew the stranger Aaron would classify him as crazy and never speak to him ever again if he asked. Besides: if he asked, there would be no way back. The hope he had spent most of his life trying to deny existed would be crushed by a simple: no. The validity to his life in Camelot, which he in secret always hoped was real, could be squashed like a tiny bug by the man in front of him. He wasn’t ready for that. He’d rather live ignorant and happy for a little while longer by the possibility that his warped fantasy land of Camelot could be true than giving someone he just met the power to crush his lifelong hopes.  

He took a big sip and almost choked on it – again – in his hurry to do _something._ The silence stretched on between them while the girls merrily chatted on. They tried several times to start a conversation but the few sentences they did share were mostly scoffed at, treated with a sarcastic comment; sarcasm they didn’t know each other well enough to be using, or ended half way through. The tone of their entire conversation sounded harsh and hostile and for each thing said, Merlin felt his irritation grow. Everything came out wrong and half of what Aaron said didn’t make sense. Most of what he said didn’t make sense and he almost bit himself in the tongue four times when his tongue started to subconsciously slip towards familiarity and he abruptly had to stop. His mind had a hard time seeing the real life Arthur he knew so well while treating him as a total stranger. The two didn't mix well. It was exhausting and he wanted to go home. He’d take being doused in water any day over what the hell was going on between them now.

If he hadn't been so focused on his own confusion and trying to keep his head on straight he would have been quite offended by the harsh tone he was receiving. But since it _was_ hard keeping his own tone polite and talk about pleasantries he didn’t give the pratty and mean comments much thought. His mind was bombarded with too strong feelings of devotion, familiarity and banterish quips to take the tone to heart. Though he most probably should; it was not a nice way to talk to strangers, but on the other hand, neither was his.

He sighed and put his confused head in his hands. Just because he had spent years hoping to actually met Arthur did it mean that the man in front of him would be _him_. He did, right now, seem rather far from it; no matter how much he looked like him. Merlin _needed_ to go home and rest his stressed and confused head. This kind of pressure and world tipping wasn’t healthy.

 

 

When they finally said their goodbyes he couldn’t get away fast enough. He was frustrated over the strange atmosphere in their conversation and the way he acted like a stiff stick. He hadn’t been this awkward and mean on his worse anti-social-and-awkward days. Of all days he wanted to make a good impression he had to completely blow this one? He tried to hide behind Anna as they stood up to leave as if he could protect him from the unavoidable: never-speak-to-me-again-you-loser. But to his surprise it seemed like Arthur had a similar feeling as there was no animosity in their goodbyes, only a strange awkwardness. He didn’t know if Arthur’s hesitance was because he had creeped the man out or if he hadn’t either meant to sound so harsh, but it could just as well been Merlin’s imagination. He had heard it was rather vivid.

 

 

Merlin didn’t think about the evening and the coffee as he got ready for bed. He wanted to actually sleep that night. He cringed at the memory of his strained and odd goodbye to Anna, who had been staring at him the entire walk home. He had been fidgety and unfocused and weird and hadn’t said a thing the entire walk back. He still felt awkward by the way he had practically run away from her up the stairs to his apartment. He didn’t want to know if his face could cringe so hard his face imploded on itself so he splashed his face with cold water and promised himself not to think of the event or the blond. Maybe if he wished hard enough he’d forget that the entire afternoon ever happened. He walked with heavy feet to his bed. He wanted a do-over but he had already ruined his first impression on Arthur. He had ruined his entire first conversation with the man because he couldn't keep his head straight and his dreams out of it. He had never been so confused in his entire life. He needed to sleep. He needed the day to end.

 

The coming weeks he saw Aaron a few times in the hallways of the university and they shared a few curt acknowledging nods. Somehow the small nods seemed to ease up the awkwardness their first encounter had left him with. He couldn’t pinpoint why that was, but it felt like the stiffness and awkwardness, inch by inch fell away. It could be because he had thought Aaron would act like he didn’t exist, but he always acknowledged him when they saw each other. He felt joy settle in his heart as the worry ebbed a way a little at a time as Arthur had yet to ignore his existence. Maybe he hadn’t fucked up completely. He had nodded towards Aaron with a growing smile as he headed towards the library. Maybe he could get the chance to get to know the blond after all.

Anna was waiting for him outside his classroom when his class ended and without saying so they headed towards the coffee shop for their weekly Wednesday coffee. He knew Anna had something she wanted to ask as she hugged her notepad closer to her chest and glanced up to him behind long lashes. He turned his head with a light smile. “What is it?” He had a fair guess what it as already. “Well, you know Morgana isn’t in town for so long.” Anna glanced away. “Soo I kinda invited her. I hope it’s okay.” Merlin tried to look offended but failed. “On _our_ Wednesday coffee?!” “I’ll buy you your coffee.” She smiled widely at him fluttering her eyelashes at him. He rolled his eyes mockingly but didn’t get further to a reply until they both started laughing. 

He had met Morgana a few times after their first coffee and since Anna wanted to spend as much time with her childhood friend while she was in town it meant that more often than not, he had the choice to hanging out with both of them; or not at all. Of course Anna was the type of person that cared for all her friends and didn’t cut him off, but she made sure to have plenty of time for Morgana too, which meant less time for him than he was used to. But if he was being honest, he enjoyed the Morgana’s company, without bribes. It was nice to just sit and listen to them talk instead of having to continue and uphold the conversation himself after a hard day at school. Morgana was always inclusive and made sure he wasn’t forgotten, no matter how quiet he was. He always felt comfortable in their company and he liked Morgana more for each time he met her. To be franc, Morgana had a lot of more fun and interesting stories to tell after all her travels abroad than the same anticlimactic and repetitive drama Anna had in her class. Drama Merlin had no interest in what so ever.

His initial weariness for the raven haired lady barely existed. Sometimes she could be a bit… demanding.. She wanted to have things her way and she wasn’t afraid of letting her voice be heard. It wasn’t bad qualities and they were, most of the time, admirable but at times she could be: demanding. He had total understanding for that though - excluding her quest for power in Camelot from the equation. She was a Pendragon, if not purely by blood, definitely in spirit and as owner of more than half the city, getting what you want and being served isn’t a rarity, but also because she had to fight to be heard and taken seriously as a leader for the company in a way her brother hadn’t had to.

It didn’t though mean that the way she sometimes bossed her friends around and the need to get her way couldn’t be tiresome. But she had self-insight and knew she could act high and above others but could just as easily as she got up on a high horse, get off. It was one of the qualities he liked most about Morgana. She never belittled someone just because they didn’t have the same background or social class she did. She didn’t let title or money decide who was worth her time or who could earn her friendship. A person’s personality decided that. She understood people as people - sometimes scaringly well – and judged accordingly.

Merlin himself had never been poor, his mother and father had a normal income, nothing special in any direction, but as he never had an interest in social elites, expensive clothes and what not, a lot of the rich kids found reasons to pick on him. He hated prats like that for the way they acted so entitled without common compassion; as if others weren’t better than the labels their clothes wore. It was that spoilt and holier-than-thou behaviour he absolutely couldn’t stand. He had always heard the intonations that he wasn’t as good as others just because he didn’t care about how much money he had, or didn’t have. So he appreciated that just side of Morgana, a lot. It was unusual to find someone with such a rich background with such a fair and just heart. He never felt bad about himself or his economical standing around her or Anna. They were the sweetest, most caring people he had ever met (when one is on their good sides). His fear of Morgana’s ambition had transformed into awe since it was very much better adapted to the 21th century. He also liked Morgana so much because it felt like she could look at a person and know who they were on the inside without whatever labels they tried to stick to themselves. He had been scared when she looked at him like that the first time, sensing that she knew something different.. was going on in his head but she never said anything. She just knew and respected that. She was weirdly fantastic seeing lies and skilfully poking holes in them with well worded comments. Whenever he passed Morgana in the coffee shop, outside or around the university they’d stop to chat and at those times it really felt like they were becoming friends. It never felt forced and they spoke of their own volitions without needing Anna as middle ground. And each time they parted he got a little bit sadder that she was soon leaving.

The Wednesday coffee was all he needed to get a well needed pause in the hectic and mind messing every day and Camelot at night. It was the reboot he needed for the rest of the week.

 

 

 

It had been a rough day. He had promised himself to cut down on the ‘coffee’ both for his health and wallet but he really needed a pity Frappuccino with caramel topping to shoot his aching head. It felt like the class had gone in two hundred miles an hour and it left his head and hand aching trying to keep up. If he was going to survive two hour more of studying before the evening he needed the treat, and the sugar. He had just gotten his coffee and was about to leave when Morgana stepped in and her face brightened the second she saw him and grabbed his arm. “I'm glad I saw you here!” Merlin couldn’t help a smile spreading in response but wondered what she could want him, he couldn’t think of a reason why she’d want to talk to see him specifically this week. “I'll be staying for longer than planned so I'm throwing a party this Friday to celebrate and announce. Please come!” He wanted to decline immediately. He really wasn't a party goer but as she looked at him with pleading eyes (and he knew that she already knew he had absolutely no other plans that Friday), he couldn’t really say no. He leaned slightly backwards trying to get away from those pleading puppy eyes. He looked outside in a try to distract him, to give him time and come up with a reason not to go but he came up blank. He looked back at Morgana “I… eh..” He saw the corner of her mouth turn ever so slightly and her eyes glinted. She knew he didn’t have plans and no reason not to go. “Merlin.” Her lips turned into a full smile, a perfect brow arching with a knowing look. The one telling him: I know you don’t have plans so don’t you dare try to impose otherwise. She _had_ pointed out before he never went out unless it was movie night.

He looked out the window again and sighed in defeat. “Yeah, sure. I’d love to.” She smiled with her perfect white line of teeth and a royal glow. “I got your number from Anna so I’ll text you the details.” He wasn’t even surprised she had gotten his number already, he had been meaning to ask for weeks. He waved one last time with the promise to be there as he turned to leave and walked out the door. He was happy she was staying and that he had been invited personally but he still didn’t like parties. He’d go because she was his friend. He couldn’t tell when exactly that happened but he wasn’t the least sorry she was.

 

 

Friday rolled around faster than he would have liked and he sighed as he waited for the buss to take him to the right location. He was a bit early even though he tried to be tardy. He shrugged his shoulders as he ascended the steps towards the floor that M. Pendragon had been written on, on the small entrance board. He was late according to the time Morgana had texted him - with about ten minutes - which meant he’d be one of the earliest there. He had done his best to leave late since he knew Anna would be late - she had texted him a few hours earlier to why, along with descriptive instructions of what in his wardrobe he was allowed to wear - but his profession had long ago wacked in timeliness into his system.

 

He rang the doorbell after a deep inhale, trying to swallow his nerves. He had no idea what to expect. He knew Anna and a few of her and Morgana’s friends were going to be there but he knew no others than Anna, Morgana, personally, that would be at the party. The door swung open and he was thrusted into a tight hug by Morgana her curly hair flushing his face. “I’m glad you came.” He hugged her back and hoped her sixth all-knowing sense didn’t tell her how close he had been to bailing. He really didn’t like parties. He was ushered in and was soo happy he had taken Anna’s directions. To not be scowled at when his dear friend arrived, he had chosen a plain pair of jeans with one of the shirts she had deemed worthy for the party. He was glad he did since he’d be utterly and completely underdress otherwise. In his mind it was going to be a small friendly party. He had never reflected on the fact that Morgana was in the top social elite and most probably had friends in numbers thereafter. He wanted to face palm. It was an “announcing party” of course all the people she knew would be there. He had no idea why his brain had tried (and succeeded) to lull him into a false security by thinking it wouldn’t be a big party.

Morgana rushed off after giving him a welcome glass with red liquid in it. He looked up from his drink and saw that Aaron was already present. Then again, he shouldn’t be surprised since it was his sister’s party. His first instinct was to go over and stay close to him until the clock was late enough for it to be appropriate for him to go home. The second instinct was to get as far away from the blond as possible. Every time he had seen the blond mop he had wanted to go to him. It was as much by a feeling of habit as it was by his own want and longing for the companionship they had had in Camelot. In his mind Arthur would just start talking to him as he always had and they’d be the friend they had been in Camelot but as he saw him dressed up, as posh looking as ever with a snobby expression he remembered just how different the man in front of him was to the man in his head and dreams.

He went with the latter and tried to avoid Aaron. As Merlin walked around the large living room he realised he didn’t know anyone and his comfort zone drastically decreased. He had not found _a single person_ to talk to after fifteen minutes of trying, so he went to the kitchen and hid in front of a bowl of crisps. Everyone he had smiled at and tried to start a conversation with had stared at him like he was something the cat dragged in. He was exhausted by their attitude already.

He leaned onto the counter and sipped his drink, absentmindedly grabbing crisps and hoped that: a) someone nice would start talking to him so he wouldn’t feel so utterly out of place or, b) nobody talked to him and the time flashed by so he could go home. He usually didn’t have a problem finding people to talk to at parties but this wasn’t his type of party. Morgana’s friends were very different from himself. He could feel it in their eyes and how they silently judged his plain clothes which all missed that small décor proving that he could afford clothes five time its own worth. He had always known Morgana and Aaron was posh, their father practically _owned the city,_ and sure, they had a tendency to step on people toes when they weren’t thinking about it with the way of being so frustratingly **entitled**. But they didn’t flaunt it on purpose like the rest of the people in the room he left seemed to do. They didn’t want to show off and they didn’t want to prove anything, they just naturally did it by the way they were used to live. He felt alien and uncomfortable and he really regretted changing sweats and pizza in front of his TV for strange drinks and poshy prats he didn’t even want to talk to.

He looked up as footsteps neared and hoped desperately it was Anna. Arthur gave him an odd look he couldn’t define as he looked up. “You’re hiding.” It wasn’t a question. It was a statement. He was about to answer ‘yeah because they’re all like you’ but shut his mouth, leaving him momentarily gawking. “You shouldn’t” Merlin rolled his eyes. Even when being awkward Arthur still tried to tell him what to do. He felt his frustration at the evening increase. The blond could be so self-righteous and ‘above-all-others’ he could have had _Prince_ tattooed on his forehead. He should be able to clearly see that Merlin wasn’t feeling okay in the environment he was in but instead he judged him, tried to tell him what to do. Before he said something he regretted Anna came to the rescue. “Merlin! There you are!” She flung his arms around his neck and he had never been so happy to see her. He let her drag him into the living room leaving Aaron behind and sat down on the couch. The crowd had grown since he gotten there and the atmosphere felt, to his relief, less hostile. There were a lot more people not wearing the most expensive suit they owned than when he arrived. He breathed a sigh of relief.

During the evening he didn’t get a single bit more comfortable with speaking to Aaron. Whenever they spoke it was never long enough to have a real conversation and whenever he thought it was going forward he would say something that tipped Aaron off or Aaron would step on his toes or his background. Sometimes it was more like he stomped on them on purpose and Merlin almost bit his tongue until it bled trying to keep himself from insulting and yelling at a man he barely knew. Royalty never did like being talked back to, especially not when they earned it. He held back, trying to control himself against his annoyance by not being able to act like he felt he wanted, and because he wanted to get to know Aaron better. At one instant the blond could be so much like the prat he knew so well. He wanted to know if that was his real side showing, but then he Aaron could switch and would be downright entitled and rude and acting weird. Merlin hadn’t liked much of he had overheard the blond talk and joke about when he passed. There was a reason he wasn’t talking to the portion of the crowd Aaron did. Because had he not been raised as well as he had, both Mr McPrat and Mr douchbag and a few others would have been kicked in the shins. No one was dumb because they lacked money and scholarship did not discredit a person’s achievements.

The most normal their conversation he ever felt with Arthur was right about when he could have sworn he’d hear: idiot and Merlin had loaded with a witty retort. But when it looked like the word was on the tip of Arthur’s tongue Merlin was instead met with an uncharacteristic politeness to then, just a few moments later, he’d be insulted in a way that wasn’t close to jokingly or light-hearted, when he was totally unprepared to answer back. Then Aaron excused himself and walked off looking stiff and awkward.

 

Merlin shouldn't be annoyed that someone was being polite to him instead of insulting him right out, but it felt wrong and bad and all over not right coming from Arthur. The way Aaron would go from sounding almost on the verge of being the lovable ass he knew, to demeaning, to apologetic seemed very uncharacteristic. He'd take anything else over the weird Arthur-look-alike he had. Hell, he'd even polish armour an entire day if it meant he could have his friend back. Or have the friend he thought he had had back? All he knew was that he didn’t want the whiplashing-mood-changing man he tried to avoid most of the night. He wanted to be called an idiot and he wanted to answer back with something similarly rude. He wanted banter. He wanted challenging gleams, shoulder pushing and I-know-everything-best smiles. He wanted to be warned he couldn’t speak like that, but the glittering blue pools’ amusement telling him to continue. He wanted it to go back to normal.

He tried to be friendly and smile and laugh and have a good time but as Aaron got more and more involved in the topics and the conversation he was having with others as people slowly filed out, he felt his annoyance grow into irritation. Arthur was acting so weird and strange and he wanted it to stop. There was never a sense of ease between them which he, thanks to the frequent Camelot dreams he was having, felt unnatural. As the evening progressed Aaron spoked more harshly towards him - which in itself wasn’t frustrating- but before he could answer back Aaron would take the comment back looking flushed and awkward only to say it again a few minutes later. It made Arthur seem like a total stranger and an ass; it made him seem like the bullies Merlin had always hated. Like the bully he had wished the modern Arthur _wouldn’t be._

He glared at the blond. If the prat just gave him enough time to answer he’d insult him right back. He wasn’t a fragile delicate flower, but Aaron never gave him the opportunity. He never treated him like an equal, which would make it feel much more like the bickering he anticipated and not the criticism and hurtful comments he was getting. He felt his anger grow until it finally snapped. Aaron had practically stomped on every single toe on both his feet by this point and he couldn’t take it anymore. Merlin didn’t need to have it smacked in his face how less privileged peasants, like him, was. That was exactly what it felt like Aaron was telling him and he had been thoroughly informed of that all evening. It had been hard to miss all the jabs that he wasn’t as good as all the others. He was just a mere country boy getting into the big city on a scholarship after all, and knew nothing about real life.

They had been hanging around the kitchen table where the snacks were stationed and Aaron had sounded so harsh. The joke in itself hadn’t been as bad. It was how Aaron sounded so self-righteous and entitled; a tone that made even Morgana turn her head to stare at her brother, that was the last straw for Merlin. He had had enough of entitled bullies that evening to last a life time and he needed them to stop. He wouldn’t let the new prat with the real prat’s face ruin the good man the real Arthur actually was by making him associate such closed mindedness with Arthur’s face.

“ENOUGH!” Aaron shut up immediately and all eyes present turned to him. He noticed in the corner of his eye how Morgana looked at him with both hope and horror in her eyes.

 “I know you’ve grown up on a silver platter and that the world is your oyster but you don’t have to be so bloody **_entitled_** about it you self-righteous prat! I’m _sorry_ some of us have to work to get a chance of getting what we want. I’m sorry our lowly peasantry is such an annoyance to you, your royal highness!” He turned around and left the kitchen; his chest heaving in short breaths as he could no longer contain his anger. He was fuming and he didn’t want to stay at a party where he felt more and more like a piece of dirt. He headed directly towards the hallway to get his coat and leave without saying another word except from mumbling “Fucking prick” under his breath.

But in his anger, as he stormed into the hallway, he couldn’t find his jacket. It wasn’t where he had hung it. He was growing more and more irritated by his futile search for it, making his search even less efficient. He was on the verge of just leaving without it when he heard footsteps. He cursed under his breath. He didn’t care who had come to talk to him, he was leaving. He should have left already if he’d only been able to find is god forsaken jacket. He wasn’t going to apologise so he didn’t even turn around. An inkling rose in the hair at his neck at the inhale of breath.

“ _Mer_ lin.”

That voice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THANK YOU for reading this far!  
> And congratulation for getting through it!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's party time again! this time it doesn't end as strangely as the last one

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I'm still struggling to get this cohesive (I fear it never will be) but I feel that it's better to get something out than stare it for another month not so we can continue to the good parts.

It felt like the world slowed down. That voice. It was the voice he had heard so many times in his head. That voice; that way of speaking his name; he had heard the intonation that Arthur’s voice could be the wielder of the peculiar and specific way of speaking his name but he hadn’t actually believed it. He had never actually believed he’d ever hear it.

That voice. It meant so much and could mean so many things. He could tell Arthur wasn’t angry even though there was a bite to it. He could tell, just like he had had always been able to tell. Arthur sounded admitting, apologetic just by the way he spoke his name. To actually hear it from another place than inside his own head threw him off. Merlin was so shocked he forgot to be angry. He was still annoyed and his feelings had an undertone of being pissed but they had taken the backseat in the shock; in the amazement at _actually_ hearing it.

He slowly turned around and tried to brace himself for what he’d see in front of him; trying to not – but to no avail – picture Aaron as truly Arthur.

For the longest moment they only stared at each other; longer than what should be deemed appropriate. He could see Arthur’s gaze flicker and trying to express himself so he remained silent. He could see how Arthur was trying to come up with the right words, which way to best express himself emotionally; something that had never been his forte. It was even less his forte when he was apologising.

Merlin could clearly see how Arthur was asking him to speak first and understand what he meant without him having to say with the way he tilted his head ever so slightly forward looking at him from under his lashes, making his deep blue eyes look even deeper. But Merlin stood still and stayed silent. He had been the one about to leave. He wasn’t the one who had called out. He wouldn’t help Arthur get out of an apology his sanity required. He had been angry at Aaron for as long as they had known each other. It was time he let that anger out and Arthur needed to prove what kind of man he was. Merlin couldn’t assume he knew the man when doing just that was what had gotten him so riled up to begin with.

He stayed unmoving and quiet, returning Arthur’s pleading and hesitant stare with a steadfast one. Blue eyes flickered down from his own before glancing up again. They were set on target and determent when they gazed back as he pushed the last bit. “You’re right.” _I’m sorry._ “I have been entitled and rude and not very kind.” _I should be better_. “I should do better.” _Forgive me._

Merlin finally looked away. He got an apology, not one entirely but it was as much as Arthur would ever give. “Yeah you have.” He turned towards the door, letting the rest of the apology rest silently in the air. “I’m really tired so I’m heading home.” He looked over his shoulder. The blond nodded slowly but seemed reluctant to let him go without saying anything more. “I’ll tell Morgana.” He finished after a few seconds pause. He nodded back and grabbed his jacket, which someone had moved to the other side of the door, and left. His phone vibrated in his pocket not soon after he was out of the apartment complex. He had timed the bus quite well since he didn’t have to wait long for it to arrive. Well seated on the buss he pulled up his phone as it vibrated again. The first text was from Anna asking if he was alright. She hadn’t heard him leave and then he had just been gone. The second message was from Morgana. She was apologising for her brother: if it made him happier by knowing no one had effectively shut up him up like that in years. No one had ever spoken back to him like that. He smiled at the hidden concern underneath.

 

He answered Anna that he was alright and that he’d text when he was back home. He’d ramble about it next Wednesday coffee. He hesitated before sending his reply to Morgana, unsure how he’d take it.

 

**To: Morgana**

Your party was great, I did have fun. I just got really tired.

It does make me happy ;) it’s about time someone did.

 

He didn’t specify he got tired of Arthur’s attitude. He zoned out and his mind went blissfully blank for the entire way home. His mind didn’t though stay quite as blissfully blank when he fell asleep. As he drifted off to sleep Camelot drifted into focus. He dreamt of the first time he met Arthur. He had been a complete and utter bully, even if he was stunningly handsome twirling his sword in hand. He had definitely lived up to Merlin’s expectations of a spoiled brat, but even though he had been a bully and a royal prat their first encounters - and had indeed sent him to the stocks - Merlin would save him from the witch’s blade; each and every time. He hadn’t been able to name why that was at the time. It had occurred to him much later that it might have been the true heart Arthur carried underneath all the bravado he had sensed and made his magic move.

Merlin dreamt of the vivid hatred or rather the dislike he first felt towards Arthur, and how it slowly had turned into general annoyances and then to enjoyment. Later enjoyment had become camaraderie, then it turned into happiness and later devotion and, dared he say, even somethings as strong as love? Arthur had been the personified image of all that he hated at first: royal superiority, ancient laws and stupid rules and a head too full of pride to see sense. But there were no denying how important he had become and how he had grown into king that held the hopeful future Merlin wanted to see.

 

Even aside from the destiny part, Arthur had become one of his best friends even though their very different ranks wouldn’t allow them to call each other just that. Merlin dreamt of all the insubordinations Arthur had threatened to send him to the stocks for, all the horrible adventures and terrifying enemy encounters. He remembered the utter glee he felt when pushing Arthur’s buttons, the joy when they were bickering and how getting things thrown at him was a part of what made it all so much fun, and so much more special; even on the occasions when he was indeed sent to the stocks.

 

Merlin jolted awake as he dreamt that another tomato smashed into his head. The sun was shining brightly outside and it was a calm day. He didn’t do much, he mostly read. He didn’t even bother to change from his pyjamas to regular clothes as he was cooped up in his bed or the couch all day, even when Anna came around for a Saturday movie night. They just sat together and watched movies and ate popcorn. They didn’t speak about the party, or about Aaron or about his swearing and storming out. They only let the comfortable silence settle between them as they laughed at the movie clichés and recited the best parts along with the actors. Not once was he disturbed by thoughts of Camelot or Aaron, it stayed, surprisingly enough, out of the way. It seemed like his outburst had worked away most of the unexplainable irritation he had carried since he first met the blond.

Sunday was spent in bed and making sure his houseplants weren’t dying. He called Gaius and just sat and talked to him for an hour or so. His mother came over to her parents as he was talking to Gaius and then the phone was lifted over and he spent a good forty minutes talking to her. The call ended with her urging him to come home and visit as well as taking care of himself, which he promised to do. The weekend passed far quickly and pleasantly uneventfully and not once did he want to bury his head in frustration at Camelot and Aaron.

 

Monday rolled around far too quickly and it wasn’t long before he was walking the halls towards his lecture hall. He saw a blond shining mop of hair further down the corridor. The kind of shine he only knew one blond who had. He tried to avoid it the best he could by walking closely behind a big group of people, but as he was taller than most of the people around him he knew by the way the blond hair set towards him that hadn’t succeeded. He hadn’t dreaded seeing the blond until he was walking straight towards him. He looked down the hall and then to his clock wishing to find some kind of excuse to avoid the conversation entirely but there was no such excuse to be found. As the blond approached his nerves calmed ever so slightly as guilt was written all over Arthur’s face and nothing else. Aaron stopped before him and it seemed that the words he had been mulling over in his head on his way over stuck in his throat.

He seemed even more apologetic up close. “Hi Merlin.” “Hi Arthur.” Arthur gave him an unamused stare. “It’s Aaron.” Aaron shook his head as a sign to let it go, which instantly killed the apology Merlin had on his tongue. “I’m sorry I was so rude last Friday.” Merlin felt the tightness in his shoulders loosen. He didn’t know why but he had been excepting an angry and yelling Aaron. He shrugged his shoulders. “You were an ass, I insulted you. I think we’re even.” Merlin reached his hand out to shake in a peace offering. He could see the worry slip away from Arthur’s features. Arthur clasped his hand and one side of his lips turned upwards in a small tilted smile. “Even.” Merlin felt his own smile tug at his cheeks. “Until you act like an ass again, that is.” Arthur looked mockingly offended. “I will not.” They started moving down the hallway. Merlin felt his smile spreading as he quirked his brows. “Yeah, as if I’m going to believe that,” At this Arthur glared, not too heatedly, at him but before he got the time to answer they had arrived at Merlin’s lecture hall and Merlin opened the door. “See you later.” Without hesitating with a big grin on his face Merlin walked in and left the blond standing in the hallway with a dead retort on his lips.

 

The day trudged on as usual just like the rest of the week did but it wasn’t long before Morgana announced that she was going to throw another party. Of what he had heard from Anna and a few from his class - when they heard he had befriended a Pendragon -, was that her parties were legendary. But unlike many other student-parties, which just contained heavy drinking until one or all was throwing up, Morgana’s parties had a rumoured rule that puking excluded you from further Pendragon events. It was a rule Merlin was fully on board with. He did not share the opinion that a good night was a night you couldn’t remember as so many of his classmates did.

It did though not mean he was any less nervous and uncomfortable getting ready and going back to the dark haired pendragon apartment. He was a tad less uncomfortable though since Anna had come to pick him up so they went together.

They stopped in front the semi familiar door and Merlin couldn’t help to be both nervous and a little excited about the prospect of seeing Arthur again. He hadn’t seen him since their conversation in the hallway and his glee and turned to uncertainty if he had pissed him off again.

The bell rang and he was once again thrusted into Morgana’s arms, just as Anna was, she had forceful hugs when she was excited, then given a drink. It was a lot sweeter and a lot easier to drink than the one from the first party. He remembered some faces from the last party as they stepped in and noted with satisfaction that most of the preppy ones which had been all too eager befriending and show off to the Pendragon siblings were nowhere in sight. There were clearly less people this time and to Merlin’s great relief there were no more suits.

He flopped down on the couch, in close range to the bowl of snacks. He glanced to his side as a dark haired man sat down close beside him. Closer than necessary but as the man grabbed a few crisps he couldn’t help but smile. “The food can’t be too far away at a party like this can it?” The man smile was so contagious Merlin almost started laughing. “Great men think alike.” Merlin laughed and grabbed another handful of cheese doddles.

The man’s name was Chris. He had worked for Pendragon Company’s foreign affairs department and had through the department met Morgana regularly since she travelled so much. He was a nice man, with a hell of a sweet tooth it seemed, and he was easy to talk to. He noticed more than once how Anna was glancing his way with a shy smile as she stood further off chatting Morgana and some other people. He also noticed how Chris glanced back just as frequently. He called her over when there seemed to be a pause in her conversation. “Anna, watch my seat.” It was completely unnecessary to have her watch his seat but he wanted to see what happened.

As he walked up to the punchbowl at the side of the room to refill his glass Morgana stepped towards him with a knowing smile. “Do you really think that’s going to work?” She nodded to the pair that was laughing sweetly at each other. He hoped it would, seeing how happy Anna seemed to be chatting with the man. Morgana looked at him with her knowing smile. “I hope so too. I have been trying to get those two together for two years now. I’m running out of ideas.” Merlin smiled, already filled with ideas to help her in her quest. “Then you need new ones.” He filled up his glass and smiled mischievously at her before avoiding going back to his seat on the couch. The atmosphere was so much lighter and friendlier than it had been on the first party. He didn’t have a hard time getting to know people and more often than not the conversations contained laugher. He was having a really good time. He did though stay clear of Aaron. Not because he felt awkward around him, but because he felt **_very_** awkward around him. He still didn’t know how to act, or even _be_ around the blond, especially not when he didn’t know where they stood yet. They weren’t strangers but they weren’t friends and he still didn’t know if he _liked_ the new Arthur or if he was projecting.

As the conversation he had had with a lovely girl who worked as a flight attendant ended, Merlin made his way to the empty cocktail area. Morgana had cleared a table and turned the area into a “make your own cocktail” area with all things that one could possibly need for the endeavour. He wasn’t surprised she’d have such genius ideas, by the reputation her parties already had. Though he got the feeling this wasn’t the kind of big flush parties she was most renowned for.

He looked to the book with recipes and tried to figure out what to do. He was holding a small cup which he guessed was some kind of measurements when someone put their hand over his, clasping the item. He looked up and Aaron looked at him with the same assertiveness (and prattyness) that always adored his face. “That’s not how you do it.” Arthur gave him that: you’re doing it wrong look. Merlin, immediately stubborn, stared back holding the things - he didn’t have a single clue on what to do with - in a firm grip. He wanted to be snarky. He was tired of tip toeing around the man, when he wasn’t pissed off that is. But he wasn’t sure how Aaron would react if he didn’t remain I-don’t-know-you-politeness. Not even when he was being abrupt and demanding. But it felt like Merlin’s tongue was on fire. He had bitten it enough time to rebel against him. He couldn’t hold it back anymore. He needed to be normal, feel normal. Even around the blond.

He noticed that a few people turned their eyes towards them, feeling the challenge between them build up as he kept staring; a strong hold of the item silently being fought over. Some of their viewers, he remembered, had seen his latest blow up at the blond. He decided as the same old glint flashed by in blue eyes, he wouldn’t be polite. He was tired of holding back and if he never tried to get real with Arthur he’d never know what that was. If he never tried to be normal it would never _be_ normal He took a small step sideways to give room. “Oh well then mighty Mr know-it-all, why won’t you show me?” he bowed as deeply as he could as he let go off the utensils, a smile playing at his lips. He could see how more people turned their heads. Their sharp tones screamed conflict but he saw a small smile flicker on Aaron’s face. He felt his heart flutter and hope rise in his chest.

Arthur shook his head and rolled his eyes but Merlin could see he was merely trying to cover up a smile. Aaron quickly mixed together all the things and thrusted the glass to his chest as he turned to leave. “What would you ever do without me?” Prat. “Drink just as nice drinks that **_I_** made?” He put his hand to his chest and tried to look smug. He tried to look sceptic as he put the drink to his lips, keeping his gaze steady and defiant at Arthur. It took a second for the taste to hit but when it did he forgot about looking nonchalant. It was the best drink he had gotten all night, if not ever. Arthur scoffed a chuckle before mixing another drink, a tiny smile spreading on his lips. When Merlin looked up from his drink, eyes bugging out of his skull far too much to hide his amazement; Arthur was walking away with a triumphant smirk. Merlin promised himself to make sure Arthur always made his drinks from then on. Or maybe he shouldn't since that would get him tanked. He smiled as he left with his paradise beverage. Even if making Aaron do his drinks would become their only relationship, he would be fine with that; as long as they tasted that good.

It felt like a weight dropped from his shoulders when he walked back to Anna and sat down. Chris had gotten up to talk to someone or refill his drink, or something. Anna glanced at him, cheeks still flushed pink, and he glanced back. “What was that?” She nodded towards Arthur, engaged in a conversation with a strongly built man with wide shoulders, and quirked her brow; trying – and failing – to repress a smile. He looked towards Chris who he saw at the punch bowl. “What was that?” and nodded towards the dark haired man’s direction. She silenced with a glare without passion and tried to stop herself from blushing, which really _didn’t_ deny anything. Merlin sipped his drink and took a second to breathe and flopped down beside her. His liquid form of heaven was all too soon gone as Anna and he chatted on about everything and anything, Morgana occasionally dropping in between hosting. He looked down to his empty glass and tried to look unsuspicious when he excused himself just as Arthur was making another drink. Before the blond left the table Merlin thrust his empty glass towards the blond.

He was earned a scowl and a look of almost being offended as Arthur stared at the glass thrusted front of him. “I’m not your server.” His eyes slowly travelled up Merlin’s arm until it reached his face. His scowl shifted to a smug smile, his left brow rising ever so slightly. Instead of answering him Merlin only held out his empty glass and wiggled it and smiled wider hoping it was wide enough to shine as the sun, as his mother called it. “Oh but you don’t want Mr _know it all_ to make your drink.” Against Arthur’s sarcastic tone he grabbed the glass. “Wouldn’t you want to enjoy the _just as nice drink **you** _ made?” Arthur fluttered his eyes in mockery. Merlin heard the mockery but only kept smiling. “I would but that would mean I had to do something.” He saw Arthur once again trying to cover a smile by shaking his head at him.

When he went to sit down again with drink in hand he could see Morgana and Anna staring at him. He ignored their stares as they started talking. He was content on the couch with crisps and the drink of heaven.

Merlin knew he shouldn’t have more to drink. But as he saw Arthur standing close by the cocktail area again he stood up. He wasn’t tipsy but he knew it wasn’t very far from it. He stood beside him and nudged him on the arm with the glass. He saw the sigh as much as he heard it as Arthur turned his head towards him. “Really, Merlin?” He only smiled back. He saw how Arthur’s lip twitched trying to keep it frowning. As the man didn’t take his glass he tilted his head, almost laying it on top of Arthur’s shoulder, and fluttered his eyelashes at the man. “Pleeeasee.” He noticed how Arthur tried to cover a smile with a roll of his eyes but never the less took his glass. He blamed the alcohol for his close proximity and almost flirtatious blinking.

When the drink was done it was thrust it to his chest, “Why do I even put up with you?” “Because Morgana likes me,” Arthur gave him a sceptical look. “And I’m a doctor,” Arthur crossed his arms, and looked far too smug for his liking, “In training. And I have Anna,”  “She won’t have a license to cut people open.” He knew it sounded morbid but he had an insult to deliver, “and sometimes there are just the kinds of people that aren’t really all that bright and gets into situations where they have to get stuff surgically removed.” Arthur’s brow rose in challenge. “Are you calling me stupid?” In any other situation that was a threat about getting punched in the face but Merlin took the drink to his lips. Confident as ever as he saw Arthur’s hidden smile glitter in his blue eyes. “I didn’t say that. You did; and also,” he pointed a finger twords Arthur. “because I am amazing.” He took a victorious sip and turned around as Arthur couldn't come up with a reply and only stood and stared at him. He knew Arthur tried to look mad but he seemed too happy to pull it off. He noticed all the stares their conversation had created but he didn’t care. He was too happy at the fact that he had Arthur back. He noticed how Morgana’s expression of disbelief seemed to form into awe as he walked away with a chuckling Arthur behind him. He walked a bit further off and just enjoyed the third magical drink Arthur had created. He couldn't help but smile. It felt like there was nothing harmful between them anymore. There wasn’t any awkwardness either; he only hoped it stayed that way without the alcohol. It finally felt like it was heading towards what it was supposed to be. He went home happy and appropriately fuzzy. He gave Anna a big and tight hug, offering her to crash on his sofa, but she insisted on getting home. He didn’t like that her apartment was further away so she always picked him up and dropped him off when they went to see Morgana. But there was nothing he could do, more than insist that she’d text when she got home. She’d break his arm if he tried to insinuate she wasn’t completely able to take care of herself and go home on her own. She promised as always, put on her location app Merlin had insisted they both should get and waved. Merlin stayed by the front door for as long as he could see the brown fluff of Anna’s hair sway as she walked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for getting this far and reading this!
> 
> * I know my chapter endings are quite abrupt but I can promise you, nothing will happen to Anna that's just part of the choppy charm I'm trying for ;P (and with 'trying' I mean that it's what I got out on paper)


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Short filler - they go to dinner :)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This has been a looong time coming. This is mostly a filler chapter since I'm stumped in where this is going together (and it's been almost a year!) 
> 
> I have a lot written on this, only that it's segments that aren't written together yet.  
> So like always, it's choppy. Does it make sense? I don't know. Hopefully.
> 
> I also now have a tumblr! Come talk to me at Marbe-creative if you like.  
> It's a jumble of thoughts, short stories but also art and doodles.

He didn’t mind when Morgana invited Arthur to hang with them after that. They weren’t exactly friends - and Arthur didn’t come along all too regularly - but they were friendly. There was some lingering awkwardness still hanging in the air, but Merlin hoped it was slowly going away. If not, he was happy for the company; especially when Anna and Morgana went onto a tangent in their conversation which was impossible to follow. Merlin hoped, if nothing else, that he and Arthur were slowly bonding over rolling their eyes and sighing silently when the girls couldn’t be understood. It felt like it.

Merlin hadn’t really realised why he recognised Anna and Morgana’s eyes rolls directed at them. He had ignored it at first but something about them seemed oddly familiar. His eyes drifted back to Arthur and as if hearing with a second layer to his hearing he heard how Arthur spoke of the harmlessness of grizzly bears. He knew exactly what the blond was on about; even if his points were highly questionable – Something he himself would probably do in just a moment-. But no one else would understand. The topic didn’t make sense to anyone else than them because he and Arthur had been talking about camping a few days prior, and Arthur (they) had dove back to that conversation, continuing from where they left it. “no, Merlin, the forest animals aren’t out to get you, you twat.”

Then there was another eye roll. A light shake to the shoulders saying: I have no idea what they’re on about. And that’s when it hit him. It was the eye roll of ridiculous tangents! It was the very same eyeroll he and Arthur had conducted in the beginning of knowing each other when Morgana and Anna and now they were doing it to them.

What Merlin didn’t know was that the eye rolls and in sync sighs told the girls they could carry on with whatever obscure childhood memory they had landed upon; without worrying about shutting Merlin out.

What Merlin liked even more about the blond prats existence and their comradery, was the fact that whenever Merlin is dragged somewhere; on parties, going out and so forth, Arthur’s never far behind. Him being forced by his sister to participate. Even if they weren’t exactly friends, it’s nice having a co-prisoner when trapped at social gatherings. He never felt as alone on outgoings as he had before. It was calming and rather soothing having someone just as forced to participate, someone he at least knew.

Morgana’s ridiculous notion of a monthly-Monday-meal was one of these occations. It wasn’t _actually_ ridiculous, but he called it that anyway. It was her trick to effectively force him and other friends to go out and spend money on eating out the first Monday of every month. No matter if they wanted to or felt they had the money to. It was “tradition”, which she just started. It was also ridiculous because he knew it was a plan to make Anna and Chris spend time with each other.

 

It was thanks to this new “tradition” he earned the spot right across Arthur at dinner. Only he, Morgana, Arthur, Anna and Chris had the time to go. By the smile Morgana gave him when they entered the pub/arcade/restaurant he knew with certainty no one else had the time since she hadn’t asked anyone else. The way she determinedly placed herself at the end of the table with Merlin and Arthur to her sides - which forced Chris and Anna to sit across each other. It was a good scheme – he fell for it. But he felt it unnecessary to force him to attend. The meal wasn’t unpleasant though.

Most of their evening meal was spent talking pleasantries, sibling-bickering and a whole of lot of giggling and blushing from the other end of the table. As Merlin looked over to see Anna blushing and Chris gently smiling at her across the table he smiled and lightly shook his head.

They could have just as well taken two different tables with the way Anna and Chris had entered a bubble of their own. The trio let them be. It was a well-executed scheme.

Merlin was content with his evening, even though he often wished he could jump in with the insults and arguments the two Pendragons were shooting at each other, but he respectably kept quiet. It wasn’t the time nor place to see if his quick wit and smart mouth would be received with the same smile it had at the party.

The food had come and gone, and Morgana, Anna and Chris had ordered dessert when Merlin noticed how Arthur was shifting in his seat. He could tell he was getting restless as he kept staring over his shoulder as they waited.

Merlin finally turned around and saw the foosball table Arthur had been eyeing for the past five minutes. He turned back around. ”Wanna play?” He nodded towards the table and he could tell by the way blue eyes lit up that he did.

”Be careful Merlin, he’s a horrible loser,” Morgana winked as they stood up. “You don’t know that since I never lose” Arthur replied, and his sister stuck out her tongue at him. Merlin could only smile. ”And an even more horrid winner,” Arthur only snorted at that.

 “You Ready?”  Arthur’s eyes focused intently on Merlin. “because I can take you apart with one blow.” Merlin couldn’t help but laugh at the absurdness of the comment as they strode up to the table taking one side each. He looked back with a grin “And I could take you apart with less than that.” Arthur laughed; a mixture of happy and snarky. And as he laughed about how that’s impossible, Merlin picked up the white ball, set it on the middle, bended over the table and firmly and steady blew at the ball; setting it off before Arthur had the time to react.

He straightened with a grin as Arthur stared. “I told you. It’s like magic!” Merlin spread his hands outwards in front of him just for ridicule. “Ha.ha, you’re real fun Merlin” Arthur eyed him again as at him as he picked up the ball. Seeming to analyse his every muscle and attributes as they took one side each. “I’m still up one-nil,” Merlin mockingly chirped in. It earned him a look that he couldn’t be described as angry but not joyful either. “It does not count,” Arthur said as he put the ball to the middle. They didn’t say much more after that. They laughed and Arthur loudly proclaimed that Merlin was cheating because he blew on the ball to change the direction which was completely against the rules, before doing the exact same thing. Merlin was out of breath after five minutes of all the blowing and laughing. The laugher then stilled into focus as the game ticked closer to its end.

Morgana was though wrong. Arthur was a far worse loser than winner. Not because he didn’t brag mercilessly about his victory as they returned, but because the way he turns still and focused. It gave Merlin the same feeling as being watched by a deadly predator when Arthur was losing and it’s scary. The blond didn’t turn angry at his opponent, he turns deadly in his precise focus. It’s equal measures fascinating as scary. Feeling hunted, even when one is only playing a game, standing with no physical contact, would creep anyone out. It was though definitely not this scared fascination with his opponent that made Merlin lose his two points advantage; that was pure luck on Arthur’s side.

They were out of breath and Merlin’s cheeks were hurting when they returned to the table; Arthur the proud winner by four points. They sat down just as their friends took their last bites of their desserts.

**Author's Note:**

> English isn't my first language.
> 
> I hope you liked it!


End file.
